Genesis - the Battle Within (Pillars of Creation Book 1)

by David Tucker

  “Well human you seem indeed worthy of battle, but I have not got time for this and neither do you, you will accept this destiny one way or the other.” It gave out a battle cry, loud and penetrating; Genesis heard the fearsome call both within his mind and all around him—

  “RAARGHRRRRR”

  The creature again blinked forward with amazing speed, this time its legs kicking out from under it, sending its twisting form into a seemingly impossible arch barely contained within the four-metre high corridor.

  In the middle of its leap, the alien aimed its remaining twin blade towards Genesis, and with a sudden glow and hissing spat the blade exploded, hurtling over the distance at an increasing and even more terrifying speed. Even with his pre-cognition Genesis had barely enough time to try and twist away from the attack, and still he was not nearly quick enough—

  The blade scored its intended goal without deviation, Genesis felt it rip through his lower torso and pin him to the wall behind, slamming him to the cold hard realisation that he was obviously no match for his opponent.

  The brightly lit impaling weapon momentarily flickered as Genesis looked surprised and horrifyingly down towards the devastation within his own flesh; it fluttered once and then completely dissolved. The metal ornate tube was all that was left of the weapon; it clunked heavily to the ground as it rolled to the Immortal’s side. The wound it left behind did not disappear though, and Genesis crumpled uselessly to the floor, wrenched over in agonising pain.

  No blood issued forth as he hit the floor – the wound was completely cauterised – but shocking Genesis more than the wound itself was the realisation that he couldn’t even begin to heal from this … as hard as he focused, his nanos were not issuing forth as intended, the repair his body and armour desperately needed was refusing to initiate.

  Genesis whimpered as he clutched the wound. The pain was intense as it forced him to hunch forward on his knees, doubling over as he coughed up mouthfuls of brightly coloured blood. Through his pain and from his affinity with the sensation, Genesis somehow distantly felt the creature’s presence closing in again. He rose slightly to see its muscular lower legs and plated armour standing before him. He spat blood across the creature’s armour as he spoke savagely.

  “Do it creature, do not torment me, I am ready. If you think you can bring my end then bring it swiftly, I deserve that much.”

  The Tel’nagara laughed before replying, “You do not know what you are deserving of human, and you know nothing yet of being ready child. But soon that will change, you will come to understand and you will know only what I need you to know; and for now, know that I am Abad’don, keeper of the nine abysses.” Genesis looked up at the creature that was now looking down on him pitifully; he watched in fascination as a new protrusion emerged out of the alien’s arm.

  A long slender needle slid out of its wrist as it bent closer to him, hissing in his ear, “You have come a long way child, but know this, you will be our reclamation, like it or not!”

  Genesis dropped his head and allowed himself to cower deep within the creature’s shadow. Despite his pain, he smiled to himself defiantly, knowing what was coming next. He felt his defiance and anger build at the alien’s taunts.

  This creature thought it had him at a grave disadvantage, but it was soon to learn the Shadow’s true nature. Genesis was a combatant who fought best when in such submission … he’d always had to fight greater opponents, injured and hemmed in just like his impossible situation right now. Fighting off the floor or backed into a corner, just as his Master Zeal had beaten him a thousand times before, this was his leveller, this was where he was used to being, and this was where he was at his best; like the shadows, it was his domain and home.

  Genesis finished arranging his knees into the eishin-ryu technique, one he’d nearly perfected over the years against Master Zeal, even once nearly tearing his master’s arm clean off; the first and last time he’d ever managed to surprise and actually strike his master properly in-fact. This stance was perfect for his current situation, allowing him to draw his sword simultaneously with landing a cutting strike from a seemingly impossibly suppressed position.

  He visualised his action for accuracy and the combination of blows he’d need from the modern era’s Craz’zec code, which gave him access to all past arts with the addition of his Sacred Order’s explicit instructions.

  As the creature’s needle came towards him, Genesis heaved up with all his might, bursting out of the shadow and sending the top of his head into the creature’s face with bone-crunching force. In the same instant he sliced one of his blades across the entire breastplate of the alien, a loud buzz emitting from the crystal and blinding light. Unfortunately, Genesis saw, it was not deeply enough – the seemingly light armour held up against his blade unexpectedly well. It did, however, succeed in sending the alien stumbling backwards in shock as it flared its remaining blade back to life.

  Utilising the space, Genesis swapped from prey to predator and, disappearing between the flashes of the emergency lights, closed in on Abad’don as it flailed desperately to fend off any more strikes that might be coming.

  The alien’s clouded eyes re-adjusted and struggled to search through the darkness, shaking its head in obvious pain. The Immortal knew the strike had done no real damage other than leave a large slice across the armour. But it bought him time and a chance to remain in control of the situation.

  Genesis surveyed the alien as he braced against his own pain and steadied himself; he slipped into obscurity and stalked his target. Now on the hunt, he first threw a throwing blade into the far corner, making his prey turn towards the sound. Genesis pounced, dropping like a spider on its unsuspecting spoil.

  Annoyingly, the creature got out from under his blade, evading him, and left him without the kill. Genesis did, however, manage to bring Katana’s twisting motion down through the creature’s leg as punishment.

  As Abad’don bellowed, knowing this was his only chance and still harnessing his own pain, the Immortal dissolved his blade from the strike and sent both his fists forward in a double blow, sending the Tel’nagara reeling even further backwards towards the flexi-glass window …

  With wild hope, Genesis had a desperate plan – If I can just pull off a couple more hits I might be able to knock the alien through the glass.

  Genesis vested the very last of his strength, and propelled himself off the wall again. Spinning up into the air end over end as he brought his foot down into a crushing blow, his foot slammed against the side of the creature’s head as it howled in pain.

  But as he landed, the pain of his wound broke through its bindings and tore through him with too much potency to block out or harness, ruining his chance of escape. Genesis staggered to the ground, eyes losing focus, his arms barely bracing himself against the floor.

  It’s over, you’ve failed … his religious personality growled, giving up.

  Genesis felt the psychic waves pulsating from the creature as he tried to stay conscious. Abad’don was so strong in Rieft ability, Genesis could barely keep control of the rest of his Apocalypse armour – requiring all his psychic control just to maintain it. This also explained why his body wasn’t repairing. Genesis felt like a weak pupil again, battling against his far superior master … Sacred’s sake, he cursed, it was ridiculously powerful.

  Genesis knew he’d angered the creature and yet that he also had no chance against such seething capacity, not a weak shadow-clinger … not a Roach like you, his infused personality goaded him.

  His severe pain forced him back up defiantly, as befitted his true personality’s command. He willed himself up with promises of escape and curses that he’d gained through his years of training.

  Genesis stumbled forward, bringing his blade sloppily for a last-ditch punching strike with his sapping strength. As he fell forward he realised before he had even begun that he was travelling far too slow, he wouldn’t be able to catch the Tel’nagara unprepared this time. It had
recovered from the last attack and now waited patiently for him to continue towards its readied and fortified position.

  Before Katana came anywhere near its mark, the creature slapped it away with its own, and in the same fluid motion slammed Genesis away with a Rieft psychic blast against the wall.

  Genesis crashed savagely against the solid wall and rebounded uncontrollably as Abad’don brought the needle up, catching him with it as he landed. The thick spike buried halfway through the young Immortal’s neck, as Genesis gagged and spat blood across the floor.

  He felt the contents of the needle take effect instantly. An intense burning sensation coursed through his body as he convulsed and screamed in intense pain.

  The suffering Wielder looked down at his body in staggering pain; he had visions of red lightning, webs of energy dancing over the entirety of his body. Each wave of pain seeming to bring him to a new threshold, never intended for mere mortals to endure. His skin crawled and cried out along with every nerve in his body. He thought feverishly that this was what falling into lava or a sun would feel like – without the soothing relief of death.

  As he writhed pathetically, he slowly felt his consciousness slipping away … feeling relieved, for dealing with the crippling pain any longer would cause his sanity to slip away too. Finally, after a few more agonising seconds, he rolled onto his back, fighting hard to keep his childhood pact, made before he’d even heard of the Immortals. He would face death and not let it creep up as it had done with so many of his fellow associates, family, friends and enemy. A single thought crept into his brain.

  I’m sorry Master I have failed you, this … I cannot endure …

  As he felt himself slipping out of this world, for some reason he didn’t feel scared. He even curiously and absently focused on the sight of the Tel’nagara, amazingly not plunging its blade into him, but instead its silhouette retreated backwards, into a glowing phenomenon to which it completely and instantly disappeared.

  Beyond this sight, a great explosion dwarfed the glowing circular object left dissipating in the hallway, and in this finality and as his eyes shut, Genesis felt himself being picked up by an explosive force. Like a leaf in a windstorm, he was hurtled backwards with tinkering shards into the void of space, away from the Tel’nagara, away from the frigate, and away from his consciousness and life.

  The light went to black, and as he lapsed completely out of thought, he heard one last sound that truly did scare him, his AI – Me’lina – she, too was screaming.

  Chapter 13 Rotas

  Way above the unknown planet’s atmosphere, and high above orbit, Lieutenant Colonel Geth Rotas saw the blue glow burst from the cloud cover over the planet’s surface. She was flying away from the frigate that had just imploded from their assault and Rotas, well-seasoned in war, immediately recognised this new glow as some kind of ballistic explosion, coming right from where they were headed next. This was soon confirmed by her radar’s data-spike, which reported massive seismic activity playing upon the planet’s surface.

  “Of course …” she muttered, “the Skinks have explosives rigged … and big ones too by the looks.” The cabin fell quiet as the thrum of the engines reverberated calmly around her.

  Yes, this next mission would draw her even closer to retirement, immortality or death; and from what she’d heard from Aspire – their ship of operations – the latter was the most likely. From what little had been divulged to her, she gathered her next mission was akin to a drunken story from a SED veteran.

  Sure no problem – secure a heavily fortified Temple of the Sacred with only a few squads and absolutely no Intel or outposts, yeah sure no problem, sign us up for the usual bullshit sir, she thought with characteristic dry sarcasm. Rotas felt her pulse quickening; the Temples of the Sacred were the most important places of human history – past, present and future. And soon this planet would be the focal point of an entire galaxy … including the parts of the galaxy she didn’t want to know about. She tried hard to ignore these niggling doubts and remain on task. She busied herself as she continued piloting the small assault craft back to the docking bay, aiming to re-join her wearied men to their frigate.

  Rotas turned her head, regretting it almost immediately as she glimpsed the five empty seats of those who’d never made it back from the Skink’s ship. She sighed as she punched in the co-ordinates, steering them straight towards their place of origin. She knew she wouldn’t be docking for long; they were to prepare and somehow be ready for their next suicidal mission on their newly found planet within a short time. Rotas shook her head in dismay, she wondered how many more empty seats she would have then.

  She’d served for a long time and seen a lot of good commanding officers come and go – but unfortunately Admiral Antipatros wasn’t one of them. The shit they were being signed up for lately was risky, and she knew it had Antipatros written all over it. Rotas had lost enough of her men to him already and was over his sooka, and insensibility.

  She’d never wanted to be on the admiral’s ship in the first place, but she’d had little choice when they’d gotten the command from HQ. And now she was stuck serving under a prick who thought he could take on the whole universe, all on his own. Rotas clenched her teeth and cursed Antipatros under her breath.

  Still irritated, she glanced back at her men again. With their visors up she could see they were tired and needed rest; she wasn’t sure how to break it to them that they’d be going straight back out again, but thought she’d give them just a little more time first.

  Although she’d never admit it, Rotas felt for her men, and she knew they respected her in return – they were loyal to the last. Rotas took slight comfort in this and turned back to watch her screens.

  Her squad, Delta 1 of the 707th Seara Infantry, consisted of only four marines and her as their leader, as per the code of all infantry combat squads. A good unit that worked well together, they were efficient at killing the Skinks and all other enemies threatening the SED. In total, her home planet of Seara consisted of over 12,000 squads like this, including the twenty special op forces, which was what her squad belonged to. Her SOF teams were widely known and feared for their reputed ferocity and skill in battle, which had downed so many enemies that even she struggled to count.

  Of course this reputation wasn’t all their own doing, it also came from their stealthy affiliation with the Immortals, who they served on numerous occasions in combat missions and training exercises. All the same, they’d earned their stripes well and truly. Yet even so, she couldn’t question the command of pricks like Antipatros … her SOF teams – though highly ranked and the Immortals’ personal elite guard – still had to answer to HQ and the higher ranking officials as per colonial codes.

  The training manual flicked once more to mind at this thought, and Rotas mockingly recalled it, further venting her annoyance.

  As decreed by Earth’s religious Elders’ law, and pertaining to the SINAI, every squad unit enlisted must uphold the protection of SED’s peoples, colonies, space, water and earth, and in so doing, whichever planet a people originates from, that member has commissioned ties too. Thus from this decree we must uphold all chains of command to protect the attributed worlds of origin, and primarily, the planet whence we came – Earth.

  Rotas snorted. She knew this code was why all his Delta forces were enlisted from her own home planet of Seara, and was what was annoying her about today’s losses. Their mandatory duty was commissioned primarily over Seara, and for them to be playing babysitter to Antipatros was almost an insult. They should be back home and not having to leave their watch over their beloved planet to other forces just to run this fool’s errand.

  Rotas was relieved though, that she was able to choose her own men for this tour with Antipatros… even if she’d to pull a few strings to make it happen. She would’ve flatly refused if her regular squad had been left behind.

  Ace, West, Phoenix and Stiggs were well-seasoned members of Seara’s Marine Corps, like her …
and so far, due to a combination of luck and skill, with probably more of the former than each would like to admit, they had been together for over five years, other than Stiggs, who joined them just shy of a year ago … although a fool, and annoyingly young, he was still a valued member and eager as any to get into the fight and kill some Skink scum.

  Five years … what a long time that felt like, Rotas reflected thoughtfully. She knew that, this close to the Outer Rims, five years together was an almost impossible feat for any squad. And she knew for a fact that they had been lucky to stay alive this long. But if Antipatros kept up his insanity, she also knew soon one or all of them would fall. The casualty rate out here was bad enough, even without the help of terrible leadership, out here mistakes meant death, and they’d seen enough to know Antipatros was no pacifist when it came to making those.

  Over the years they’d toured out here, they’d battled with Skinks, fanatics, pirates, rogue militia, smugglers, terrorists, and bounty-hunter scum. Seara was unfortunately closest to these dangers, being so distant from Earth, and therefore it was their privilege of meeting these delightful sooka’s first.

  Rotas and her men deserved better than Antipatros; Rotas had let this be known often, and was likely why Antipatros was first to call upon her squad when he needed such jobs done. It angered Rotas, enough for her to file every form of complaint she could. She couldn’t just stand by and watch her squads burn … not after the work she’d put into them. These men and women had to be the best troops the SED had on offer. Seara’s troops were the first called upon to strike against any threats destined for Earth’s main colonies, and only the elite joined their Delta squads … if you weren’t the best then it was a death warrant to come this far out. Despite Antipatros and HQ, she would do all in her power to keep them breathing.

  Rotas knew they kept the sector protected and safe from many of Terithian enemies. They were as hard as they came; sadly, the weak fell, yet the strong were cast from the fear of falling, constructing them as lethal warriors who fiercely protected their beloved home and planet.